Wayward Terrors

The Market of Terrors - Prologue

The crescent moon was hidden by dark shadows, only a speckle of stars were visible, they remained to be the only source of light in the sky.

The shadows were not just above, but below. Cold, dark people milled about, tending to whatever horrific business they were committed to. Stall upon stall of dark-eyed people, with threatening smiles, lay waiting. Liquid despair and multiple forms of demise lay available for purchase by the clusters of people walking by.

Tending the stalls were a variety of people. By a stall with vials of blood, stood a man, his skin pale and almost a sickly yellow. When he smiled inside his mouth you could see rows of sharp pointed teeth.

A cluster of people walked by, their eyes soulless and black, except for the leader of the group, whose eyes were blood-red. Even the man with the sharp teeth flinched at the sight of them.

As they walked everyone made way for them. Like the plague they swept through the stalls, in search of their next kill, keeping no stall untouched by their cold soulless eyes.

Eventually, the man with the blood-red eyes separated him from his group. He wore a dark suit and coat. He strode up to a stall with a creature standing in the shadows behind it. The man was short with a head of scruffy hair and a beard, he would have seemed friendly if it wasn't for the blood-red eyes and menacing smile. The creature, unlike the man, was easily distinguishable as something to be feared, it's body was large and long, it towered over the short man in front of him, it's face disfigured and from its mouth dripped blood. His stall was lined with jars of various bloody items, one jar filled with a human heart sitting in a pool of blood.

The man with the blood-red eyes walked up to the creature and placed his hands flat on the stall table. A menacing smile stile plastered on his face

"You know why I'm here," he murmured as he picked up a jar of livers, his voice deep and husky.

"The girl," the creature growled, it's voice raspy and as it talked its gleaming teeth were visible, covered in blood. 

"I'm waiting," the red-eyed man demanded, placing the jar of livers back down onto the table gently.

The creature laughed, it was croaky and almost indistinguishable as a laugh. It looked down at the man before him, unphased.  It wasn't until the short man pulled a box of matches from his coat pocket that the creature reacted. It flinched back, snarling. 

"Now, how about we try this again," the man growled. 

"Where is the girl?"

The creature stepped forward, though its eyes flicked to the matches, it still managed to lean towards the man.

"I believe that's a question for the Winchesters, Mr Crowley.